Council of Desperation
by AzureSkye23
Summary: Part of the Bond Between Brothers Universe. Saruman has the Ring, and those who still can stand against him have gathered in Rivendell to council; including the one who the fate of the Ring concerns most closely: its maker.


**This took me awhile to write... but it *is* my longest oneshot to date. Lots of dialogue, but hopefully y'all won't be disappointed. Follows after Rebelliousness. **

* * *

As luck would have it, Glorfindel was the first to come down the walkway the two Maiar were sitting in. He raised an amused eyebrow.

"Well, hello Olórin," he drawled softly. "Been a while, hasn't it?" Olórin simply gave him a look.

"One day, my friend," he replied. "That's not long even by mortal standards." Glorfindel grinned, before becoming serious.

"I thought your natural powers were bound," he said. Olórin nodded.

"They were," he replied steadily. "But the game has changed now."

"So you're going against your orders?" Glorfindel asked, surprised. Olórin shrugged.

"Runs in the family," he said lightly.

"Sure," Sauron muttered without moving, still looking fast asleep. "Blame me."

"I didn't, Mairon, but I can if you want," Olórin said pointedly.

"If it keeps you out of trouble, go ahead," Sauron said seriously, opening his eyes. "I can't really get in _more_ trouble at this point."

"Did we wake you?" Olórin asked, changing the subject. Sauron shrugged.

"It's fine," he said. "I really need to start planning, anyway." He sighed. "I hate working under a deadline."

"How much time would you liked?" Glorfindel asked curiously.

"Couple hundred years would be nice," Sauron answered wryly.

"How long do you think we have?" Olórin asked.

"Two weeks," Sauron said succinctly. "And then we had better have a plan for getting out of this whole mess." Glorfindel and Olórin nodded somewhat grimly, recognizing the truth in that statement.

"Well, I will inform my lord that perhaps a council to inform all here how affairs stand in Middle-earth at the moment might be useful," Glorfindel said, then paused for a minute. "Oh, and Olórin, you might be interested to know that Estel is awake."

"Elrond was able to use Vilya effectively, then?" Olórin asked. Glorfindel nodded. Sauron glanced between them.

"Let me guess," he said dryly. "This 'Estel' is the heir of Isildur I've been hearing rumors about for half a century now."

"Yes," Olórin admitted. "His true name is Aragorn. When Saruman first gained the Ring, he also launched an assault to try to take him prisoner. He escaped, with help, but was badly wounded. With Elrond unable to use Vilya, his condition remained grave." Olórin sighed. "Most of those of his kinsmen and friends with him bought his freedom with their lives," he finished softly.

"So he's barely recovering, grieving, and most likely angry," Sauron summed up, sighing. "This will be interesting."

"Well, there's little point in worrying about that until we must," Olórin said, ignoring his brother's incredulous look. "Are you hungry?" Sauron gave his brother a long, evaluating look, then grinned wickedly.

"You want to confuse the Mirröanwi," he said smugly. "Well, lunch is as good a place to do so as any." Glorfindel began laughing, as Sauron stood up, accepting Glorfindel's proffered hand as he did so, much to Olórin's shock.

"I believe I will accompany you, just to see the reactions you will receive," Glorfindel said, as Olórin stood up.

"I fail to see why you believe I am doing this for the reactions," Olórin mock sniffed. "I am doing this merely out of a concern for my younger brother's welfare." Sauron laughed at that, and Olórin couldn't help but smile at the rich, warm sound.

"I don't believe anyone who knows you would believe that, Olórin," the younger Maia said, walking easily between the Elf-lord and his brother.

Glorfindel listened with amusement as the brothers continued to bicker amicably as they headed towards where most of Rivendell's inhabitants and their guests were informally gathered for the midday meal. As he had predicted, they turned surprised heads. The brothers were almost inverse copies of each other. Olórin was half a head taller than Sauron, and the older's white-blond hair was opposed by younger's fathomless black; Olórin's deep purple eyes contrasted Sauron's brilliant gold, but in features the two were almost identical.

To make everything more interesting, at least from Glorfindel's point of view, and probably from the Maiar's as well, was that many people could still recognize Olórin as Gandalf, or thought they did, and were becoming even more confused. Glorfindel carefully held his laughter back until he left, hearing as he went Sauron's quiet, sardonic, "Enjoying yourself, Olórin?" That broke his composure, and he left to find Elrond, snickering helplessly.

* * *

The Council was held the next morning, on a balcony overlooking the Bruinen. Sauron had easily manipulated Olórin into staying with him, and had slept the night through, curled safely in his brother's arms. Two full nights of sleep had done wonders for the younger Maia, and his collected, confident personality was back in the fore.

Sauron's expression was a careful mix between studied nonchalance and polite interest as he entered the balcony where the council would be held. A slight raise in his eyebrows indicated his surprise as he saw who was there.

"Aiwendil," he greeted the other Maia courteously. "I didn't know you were here." A startled look came over the Wizard's face.

"It's been a very long time since I was called that," Radagast commented quietly. Sauron shrugged.

"It's your name," he pointed out. "Or, well, the Quenya translation of your name."

Olórin came in behind Sauron, and greeted Radagast as well. Sauron glanced around the balcony. Elrond's chief advisors, Lady Galadriel, more elves, most from Mirkwood by their dress, but one looked to be from the Havens, Dwarves from Erebor, a man, clearly Dúnedain, that looked so much like Elendil that Sauron immediately guessed it was that Aragorn, and the three Maiar.

Sauron frowned inwardly. With only one of the Secondborn present, it seemed too heavily biased towards the Firstborn. Still, what was, was. Those present focused on Elrond when he entered, and the whole company settled into a circle of chairs. Elrond's advisors settled to his right, and Galadriel settled on his left. Sauron slipped into the seat next to her, returning her polite greetings as Olórin and Radagast sat to his left, followed by the Dwarves and then Aragorn, who sat as a buffer between them and the Elves, a rather politic move, Sauron noted.

Elrond quickly introduced those invited to the council, confirming Sauron's guess as to the identity of those involved. Their reactions to Sauron's presence ranged from nervous surprise to wary belligerence. However, Elrond, Olórin, and Galadriel's easy acceptance of him defused this slightly, Galadriel in particular getting many surreptitious looks for her easy greeting of the Maia all knew she had hated.

"Here we are gathered, not by chance, and we here must answer the threat that has risen unexpectedly," Elrond began. "For Saruman the White has betrayed us and all of Middle-earth, taking to himself the One Ring, greatest of all the Rings of Power, and now seeks to dominate all who dwell on these shores. The history of the Ring is long, but let it suffice to say that it was found by Bilbo Baggins in a cave deep within the Misty Mountains, when he crossed them in the company of Thorin Oakenshield, the year Smaug was slain and Erebor restored. When Bilbo Baggins permanently left his home in the Shire and retired here to Rivendell, he left everything to his younger kinsman Frodo Baggins.

"Frodo Baggins kept the Ring for many years, and was slain when Saruman's forces found and claimed the Ring. Saruman then returned to Isengard, and launched an assault to the North, while he himself went East. Aragorn, it was your people who guarded the Shire, as well as stopped Saruman's northern advance. Will you tell of it?"

"The Shire was invaded fairly cleanly," Aragorn started somberly. "Frodo Baggins was murdered, and a few Hobbits were ridden down when Saruman's men left the Shire, but other than that none were slain. The Dúnedain who guarded the roads they used to enter the Shire were killed, and many more were slain when Saruman launched the offensive against them."

"He was after you," Glorfindel commented. Aragorn shrugged, a guilty look coming into his eyes.

"Perhaps," he said. "No matter what he was after, his forces were driven back, though at the cost of too many good men's lives. It is uncertain whether another such force could be repelled, however. We do not have the numbers necessary."

"Could those in Rhovanion come to their aid?" Legolas asked. "We have battle tested armies, as we have always lived with the knowledge if war came to Middle-earth again, we would be attacked, and the Battle of the Five Armies is still within living mortal memory for some. Would it be safe to bring some of them here?"

"Rhovanion will have a respite for a time," Sauron commented, speaking up for the first time. "Saruman does not have the allegiance of the Eastern tribes, and he will instead focus first on Eriador. He is gathering his forces at the moment, figuring out what he does and doesn't have under his control. Once he has done so, he will launch an offensive either against Rivendell, or the Grey Havens. Rohan he already has worn down, they are no threat to him at this time. Gondor is further away, and does not have the forces required to launch a counteroffensive, though they still can long defend their own holdings. The strength to resist him lies here, so he will strike here first."

"So we could bring aid without undue threat to our own lands," Legolas said.

"Perhaps, but crossing the Misty Mountains in force is no easy task. I'm not sure you could bring enough to make a difference, and still have enough to defend your lands," Sauron replied. "Still, it is something to keep in mind."

"It is indeed," Glóin said. "But I am more curious about how Saruman learned of the Ring to begin with. How was his treachery discovered?"

"I discovered it," Olórin said softly. Then he shot a wry look at his brother. "Though I suppose you knew before any of us." Sauron shrugged and nodded.

"I had long been suspicious of Bilbo's ring," Olórin told Glóin, "but it was not until this year I discovered it was the One. When I did so, I left the Shire, for I felt uneasy. There I found Radagast, who told me the Nazgûl were abroad again, and that Saruman had summoned me to Isengard. I went, determined to seek his aid and advice on what to do now that the One had been found. When I arrived at Orthanc, he hid his mind from me, until I had told him what I knew of the One. Then he revealed his plans to wield the One. He tried to convince me to join him, but I would not…so I was imprisoned on the top of Orthanc, helpless to do more than watch as he gained the Ring, and seemed to be set to conquer Middle-earth." Olórin's voice broke.

"It is my fault," he whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "I led him straight to it…Doomed Frodo to death, and the rest of us to destruction or enslavement." Sauron nudged him.

"No, it is not your fault, Olórin," he said firmly. "It is not your fault Curumo decided to betray his lord and mission, nor your fault that he abused his position as head of your order to get the information he wanted. Everything that has happened his his fault…of course, you could always blame me for making that cursed Ring in the first place."

Olórin said nothing more, but he opened his eyes again, and Sauron could see the darkness in them recede a bit, though it didn't disappear completely. He obviously still felt he was to blame in some degree. Well, Sauron decided, he would have to simple keep reminding Olórin that it wasn't his fault, until he finally believed it.

"It seems to me that everything seems to come back to the Ring," Gimli said suddenly.

"He is right," Legolas said, seeming slightly surprised that those words were coming out of his mouth. "The Ring is central to all we have discussed." He turned to face Sauron. "If the Ring is yours, how is it that Saruman can wield it as he has? Why does it answer to him?"

"The short answer would be that it had decided to let him," Sauron said dryly.

"I thought the Ring was part of you," Aragorn said suddenly, belligerently.

"It was, over four thousand years ago," Sauron replied, "But since it has been separate from me, it has changed. I am no longer the being I was then. Nor is the Ring the same. It is like…"

"Flatworms," Radagast said suddenly. All eyes turned to him, Sauron tipping his head to the side in bemusement.

"If you cut a flatworm in half, it will grow back into two worms," Radagast explained. "You cut yourself in half making that Ring, and since you've been separated in such different environments, not to mention having a slightly different original make up, you're now two separate entities."

"That's…actually a rather good metaphor," Sauron said, surprised. "Except the Ring is still connected to me."

"But now it has a will of its own?" Legolas asked.

"In a way," Sauron replied. "It is a will, but a will only to power. It answers most fully to those who already have great personal power, and wishes to be wielded by the one who most desires to rule all. For most of its existence, that was me. Now Saruman, it would seem, has won its allegiance."

"But if it is the will to power, why does it wish to be controlled by another at all?" asked Gimli. Sauron shrugged.

"It cannot wield itself, or I'm sure it would do so. But it matters not, for whoever uses it finds themselves becoming both slaves to and reflections of the Ring. I suppose it would be more accurate to say the Ring wields it's bearer, rather than the other way around. However, it is demanding when it comes to who can wield it. Only those with a strong amount of personal will can use it, though it will corrupt any who are even in its vicinity for too long," Sauron explained.

"And it has chosen Saruman," Gimli stated. Sauron nodded.

"Yes, it has," he replied. "Of course, Saruman also deliberately sought it out."

"Do you know the circumstances of Saruman's fall?" Elrond asked.

"Yes," Sauron said with a sigh. "About the year…3,000 or so, he started looking into the Palantír of Orthanc, and it wasn't long until he connected with the Ithil Stone, which I held."

"So you corrupted him," Aragorn said, interrupting.

"He had been searching for the Ring for over a hundred and fifty years by that point," Sauron said, ignoring Aragorn. "I did offer him an alliance, intending to double-cross him later, of course, but he never quite accepted. He's been playing his own game the whole time."

"But why did he go after the One to begin with?" Glorfindel asked.

"I think…" Sauron began slowly, "that he set out originally from Valinor with the idea to prove himself better than me…and eventually felt the One was the best way to do that."

"He was the only one who volunteered to come," Olórin said quietly. Sauron looked at his brother, reading something in his eyes.

"That makes it even more likely," he answered. "What I don't understand is why he still felt that way–surely my betrayal was enough for to him to feel like he had won our feud."

"Númenor," Radagast said quietly. Olórin nodded.

"You don't understand the reaction there was in the West to Númenor's betrayal," Olórin told Sauron. "There was a…horrified awe…that sprang up in response. While we were shocked and grieved by what Númenor had come to, there was an acknowledgment that it had been a bold and audacious move on your part, and stunningly well pulled off."

"Of course, I drastically underestimated the consequences," Sauron said dryly. Olórin shrugged.

"Yes, but that doesn't change the fact it took Ilúvatar Himself to stop you," Olórin commented.

"And Curumo's jealousy of you re-ignited in that time," Radagast added.

"What, did he think I had done it just to spite him?" Sauron demanded.

"Probably," Radagast replied dryly. Sauron sighed in exasperation.

"I never thought about him after I left Valinor until he showed up on these shores. I had larger concerns."

"And yet, your feud had not ended for him," Olórin replied.

"So it continues now," Sauron said quietly. "Have you ever thought about it?" he asked the other two Maiar. "Almost all the wars that have been fought so far…have all stemmed from us, and the disagreements and wars we fought amongst ourselves long before the Children awoke. It's ironic, considering why we entered Eä to begin with."

"I think it's sad," Radagast commented quietly. "That we did not have enough wisdom to set aside our own quarrels and thus dragged the younger races into them."

"Morgoth's hatred was more than a quarrel, Aiwendil," Sauron said quietly. He shook his head. "I never understood how Lord Manwë could stand it." He looked at Olórin. "When you found out I had fallen…I thought you hated me. And that _hurt._ To know not only that my brother hated me, but was actively trying to destroy everything I held dear…I cannot imagine."

"That's where our own need for Estel comes from," Olórin said softly. "Men…need it for the courage to face the night, and to trust that there will be something beyond this world. Dwarves…for the assurance they are not forgotten by their creator. Elves…to overcome the fear that there will be nothing left for them after Arda's end. And us…we need it to trust that all will come out right, that all we have sacrificed and lost will be worth it, and someday we will rejoice without sorrow."

"And can we trust that?" Sauron asked, almost to quiet to be heard, looking down. Olórin reached out and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his embrace.

"I thought I had lost you forever," Olórin whispered. "I do not believe I have found you again only to loose you." Sauron rested his head on his brother's shoulder and closed his eyes, not caring it was in front of everyone. He stayed like that time, while silence reigned. Then he raised his head, feeling Olórin letting go of him.

"Well, I think we Ainur have caused enough problems for everyone else," he said. "Shall we put an end to it, and let them cause their own problems?" Chuckles greeted that, Radagast laughing outright.

"I like that idea, little brother," Olórin said with a smile. "Do you have a plan on how to do it?"

"Why am I always the one who has to come up with the plans?" Sauron mock complained.

"Because you're good at it," Olórin replied, winking.

"Well, this is harder than simply getting back at you and Eönwë when the two of you would team up to prank me," Sauron said dryly. Olórin laughed, remembering.

"It would have been easier if Saruman had remained at Barad-dûr…except that then I doubt I would have been able to get away had he done so," Sauron mused, his mood changing.

"Perhaps if he were driven out of Orthanc, he would return there?" Legolas asked.

"Like what you did at Dol Guldur?" Sauron asked. "It's possible, though driving him out of Orthanc is nearly as much of a challenge as actually assaulting him there."

"Not necessarily," Olórin said. "All you would have to do is do enough damage to Orthanc that Barad-dûr would become an attractive possibility. It would suit his fancy, and tickle his ever-growing pride, I think, to take up operations there."

"And once there, he'd most likely staff it at least partially with my old servants, which will give us an inside advantage. Also, we'd be closer to Mount Doom."

"Why would your former slaves be willing to help?" Aragorn asked.

"Because most of them are women that I saved from the less than savory appetites of my coarser underlings," Sauron said. "They were always treated very well, and were actually remarkably loyal to me."

"So you think it's possible to actually defeat Saruman if he were in Barad-dûr?" Elrond asked. Sauron nodded.

"It would at least be attemptable, unlike what I see happening if we try to assault him in Orthanc."

"So the question is, how do we make Barad-dûr seem like the better fortress?" Glóin asked.

"That is the question," Sauron agreed dryly. He rubbed his temples. "We would almost certainly have to attack…but we have no army to do so…"

"And it would be leading men pointlessly to their deaths if we tried," Aragorn cut in. Sauron ignored him.

"What about the Ents?" Radagast suddenly said.

"Ents?" Sauron asked.

"Saruman is using Fangorn forest to fuel his war machines," Radagast said. "My lady's children will not take kindly to that treatment of the forest they guard. They would, perhaps, see ridding Isengard of Saruman a worthwhile endeavor."

"They might be able to do it… though not alone," Sauron mused. "Olórin, do you think you could convince the Eagles to help? They are rather fond of you."

"I might be able to, yes," Olórin said. "But what role would they play?"

"They dropped stones and other such items during the Battle of the Five Armies," Glóin commented.

"Yes, but that won't be much good against Orthanc," Olórin said with slight exasperation. "Not unless the rocks would explode."

"Hmm," Sauron mused, an idea beginning to take hold. "Ents…Eagles…Explosives…" He smiled mischievously.

"I haven't seen you grin like that since that you prank you played on Eönwë and me that got us banished from any of Lady Vána's experiments, and ended up with us placed among Lady Yavanna's people 'until we had learned respect for her creations,'" Olórin said dryly. Radagast snickered, remembering the incident.

Sauron's grin simply grew bigger.

"Oh no, Olórin," he said in an innocent tone. "This is going to be much better."


End file.
